Submitted by Linda, Age 29, Los Angeles

It was my first year in the dorms. I was sharing a room with one other girl, and we’d only recently met but were becoming great friends. She kind enough to allow by BF from back home to come stay in our one tiny room for a week long visit.

Well, my beloved came up by bus on the very weekend our two adjacent dorm buildings had been having a fire alarm war. For the unfamiliar, this means a person from building A sneaks into building B in the middle of the night and pulls the fire alarm. Sirens blare in each and every room and everyone must evacuate the building until the campus fire department comes and resets the alarm.

Our first night together in the same bed in months, we waited until my roommate was definitely asleep and we began to ever so slowly snuggle together, getting closer and closer. It was at the exact moment our under-the-covers snuggling crossed the line into “official sex” that the light above the door started flashing and those piercing teeth-gnashing sirens began screaming. I believe I literally felt my BF shrink out and away. We had to pull ourselves together (apart I mean) and pretend to be half asleep like my roommate as we were herded down the stairs and outside into the cold. Needless to say, my BF was a very jumpy guy every time I wanted him to be a very humpy guy after that!

Submitted by Mosa, Age 31, San Francisco, CA

I am an old married lady – almost five years, baby. I am always looking for interesting ways to spice things up (translation: get laid). A while ago, I decided it would be fun to do a strip tease for my husband. Being the nerd that I am, I got a “how to” strip tease book from the public library. I even read it. After a week or so of practice, I felt confident enough to try out my new moves on my man.

I chose a sexy song, established some mood lighting and sat my husband down. I wriggled and squirmed and danced about. I moved slowly and touched my body just like the book told me to. I opened my eyes a few times and was gratified to see my husband smiling and staring back at me. I slowly pulled my shirt over my head letting it get sloppily tangled in my hair. I writhed on the floor as I stretched and pulled at my bra. Damn! I was hot!

As I rose to my feet, I began to unbutton my jeans. I rocked my hips gently back and forth and side-to-side as I shimmied the jeans down over my ass. I let my husband get glimpse of my lacy g-string underneath. As my waistband reached my calves, I gave a dramatic kick and sent my jeans flying across the room in the direction of my husband. My husband, who had been silent up until this point, let out a sharp cry. Wow! I must really be turning him on; he’s not usually a screamer. I must be the sex goddess I always knew I was!

I opened my eyes to take a peak at my husband, expecting to see him ecstatic with lust. Instead he was doubled over clutching his shinbone. It took me a moment to realize what had happened. Some years earlier, my husband had purchased a pocketknife for me. I wore it religiously in the right hip pocket of my jeans. In all my prep prior to dancing, I hadn’t thought to remove the knife. When I sent my jeans flying across the room, my knife had become dislodged. It went hurdling through the air straight into my husband’s shinbone.

I tried to kiss away his pain and go on with my dance, but it was no good. The mood was lost. My husband, and his bruised shin did not appreciate my knife throwing skills. Ah well. It took me years of marriage, but I finally learned that my husband is not a masochist.

Submitted by lola, age 35, mouseville, FL

I had been married for eight years when my husband up & left for… I dunno, greener pastures or something. I was a 32yo MILF who’d finished licking her wounds and crying like a whipped puppy, and had found a great 21yo guy online. Before you pass judgment and make all the “cougar” comments, we were together for a year before I reconciled with my husband. I was only hoping for something casual, too, and got a bit more.

We met on the world of internet dating, and he sent me pics of himself when he was in the Israeli army at the age of 18. I thought that the pics were no more than a year old as he’d just moved to the States. We decided on a chain restaurant known for its great drinks, and met. He was easily 45 pounds heavier than in the pics, but I was OK and decided not to bail on him.

I still wasn’t sold all the way through dinner, but then he flipped the Sex Switch and did the whole “Don Juan DeMarco Finger Trick” (just look for the “restaurant scene” and you’ll know what I’m talking about) and we were back off to his place as soon as I screamed, “CHECK, PLEASE!”

Continue reading »

(Rejoice, readers! We have finally hit our 100th story! This one’s from Michelle, who had a story posted earlier this week. This tale is just as good as her first, and I think you will enjoy it.–SF)

Submitted by Michelle, Age 20, California

I am at a pool party. I am single for the first time in two years and flirting with everyone. We are having dinner inside, so everyone takes turns going to the changing room and then going inside. I let myself be last, and when I think everyone has gone to the house already, I go to change. It is starting to get cold, so I run in the room and shut the door — not realizing I am not alone. It is actually an ex that I still had a thing for, and he is naked. We both stare at each other for a minute, and then it becomes apparent he still has a thing for me too. So we start making out, and we get turned around so that he is against the door. I am just about to take my swimsuit off when he moves over a bit and hits the latch holding the door shut. The door swings wide open, and he would have fallen backwards except that some of my friends have come to see what’s taking me so long, and he lands right in their arms. He is embarrassed and grabs his clothes and leaves in a hurry. Not only did I not get laid, but I have to live with everyone talking about it for a month.

Submitted by Michelle, Age 20, California

I was in college (this was not too long ago), and I was doing some volunteering through school. I gave rides from the work site to the school for a few weeks. Usually I got stuck with two annoying girls and this one good looking guy. I was shy so we all just talked about music. The last week, the girls don’t show, and I tell the guy that he looks like one of those kids who gets stoned right before class. He said he did that in high school and asked me if I did too. I am hung over from the night before (and that is another how not to get laid story) and I decide to practice some flirting on him since this is the last time I am volunteering (which means the last time I will see him). So I decide to tell him that all I did in high school was have sex. I told him how I probably had sex more times than he got high (I left out that it was with one boy and I haven’t done it since). He seems shocked, and I feel stupid, but we are almost back to school. Then, just as I am pulling up to the parking spot, he says, “I have an hour before class. Want to go to my dorm?” Suddenly, what I have been hoping for has come to pass, but I can not get myself to say a word. I am speechless. And he just says, “That’s okay,” and gets out of the car and walks away. And I bang my head against the wheel and go, “why?!?!”

(The Dangers of Alcohol: Part 3 — where our protagonist once again learns: Screw the sauce or be screwed by the sauce. — SF)

Submitted by TooCool, Age 36, Traverse City, MI

I was in my mid-20s, and thought I was just the coolest bitch ever. Just graduated a prestigious college. Big fish, small pond. I met a guy at work with an ego greater than/equal to mine, and I tried like hell to bag him.

We had had a one-nighter, which, fueled by way too much alcohol, was forgettable. Er, forgotten. I wanted another chance.

Long story short — I had a party at my parents’ house on the lake, about 40 miles from the city. It was a pain in the ass to get him to come all the way out there for the bash, but he did finally show up, with another cool friend.

By the time he arrived, I was so far gone on booze and hash that I made a total ass of myself. I allowed him to degrade my assembled local friends — and I joined in. I was unhinged.

Fast forward an hour or so, I puked all over the place. He and his friend made a hasty retreat while I vomited. I returned to the party to find everyone gone.

How cool is that?

P.S. Ironic ending — I am now happily married to Cool Guy’s childhood best friend — who has let me know in no uncertain terms that NO ONE who actually knows Cool Guy thinks he’s cool. He’s actually a whiny, insecure heroin addict (And the probable reason I don’t remember the one-nighter is because his dick is so small that it was like throwing a hotdog down a hallway).

Submitted by Dawn, Age 24, NYC

How Not to Get Laid? Simple.

Have the third date right outta the books: Simple sexy dress that wows him, a dab of perfume in the cleavage that’s purposely showing, candlelit dinner, delicious wine, flirtatious talk and under-the-table-teasing… dessert……..

Both hot, both turned on as all hell, you somehow make it back to your place, up the stairs, and as he goes down on you, have him find out with his tongue that you weren’t keeping track of your cycle and you hadn’t noticed that you started to bleed an hour earlier. Is that what was in my panties? Not exactly the wetness he was lookin’ for.

Say good night, Gracie.

Submitted by Elizabeth, Age 18, Williamsport, PA

I had a big crush on this guy my senior year in high school. The most excruciating part of having this crush on him and seeing him every day was that he was a desperate virgin and constantly complained about his troubles with women, while I tried to get him to like me to no avail. I think the problem was that he thought I was a little too out-there for him.

Anyway, it’s graduation night, I am an experienced alkie, and he wants to get drunk for the first time ever. So, I encourage him to down more rum, while getting very very drunk myself. Later on in the night, he is tanked, and I decide to tell the whole party about how in love with him I am and how I want to take his virginity. By this point he is close to unconscious and dashing to the toilet while I try to comfort him. My friends then decided to lock me in the room where he is about ready to lie down. They tell me he wants to have sex with me. He keeps falling asleep as I attempt to kiss him. I do remember noticing this and giving up. The next day I awake to find out that I crawled up to the bunk bed above him and vomited in my bed –?? and onto his head.

I had to get an identification card picture taken the next day in order to board a plane, and I still had puke in my hair. My friends still like to point out that the picture on my ID was taken “??the day after I tried to date rape Chris.”?

© 2010 How Not To Get Laid Suffusion WordPress theme by Sayontan Sinha